


Harder Than You Know

by griever11



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Post-Finale, felicity loves Oliver a lot even though he’s terrible at making decisions, olicity - Freeform, post 6x23
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-15 00:06:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14779838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/griever11/pseuds/griever11
Summary: Post season 6 finale spec fic.Oliver is released from Slabside after five months away from his family and is now faced with the fallout of the decisions he made.





	Harder Than You Know

Oliver has to squint when he steps out of the door, shielding his eyes from the harsh glint of the sun. The heat feels really good on his skin and he stops walking for a moment to enjoy it. It’s not like he hasn’t been outdoors in the last five months, but it’s the first time he’s been outside without the figurative noose of his life sentence strangling him.

It’s the first time he’s standing outside as a _free_ man.

Five months.

Five months in a supermax prison surrounded by metahumans and the most dangerous criminals in the country - some of whom he’d sent there as the Green Arrow. The experience had been far from pleasant, and he’ll have a lot of bad dreams about the place, but compared to everything he’s been through in the last eleven years?

It could have been a lot worse.

“You’ve already been signed out, so you don’t need to go back to the main office. Do you need to collect any personal belongings?”

Oliver turns to the man accompanying him out of the prison and shakes his head. His right hand crosses over to his left, twisting his wedding ring around his finger. He’d retrieved it when they processed him out earlier in the day. The only personal thing he’d brought with him into the prison.

“No. I have everything I need.”

“Then Mr. Queen, you’re free to go. Your family’s just on the other side of the fence.”

He almost keels over with relief, his heart soaring at the mention of his family. They’re here.

_Here._

It’s her bright blonde hair cascading down her back that he notices first.

Her long, wind-blown, golden curls positively glimmering in the sunlight, falling just below shoulder-length, making his chest ache with longing. She’s in a long, green coat - wow, not subtle at all - cinched at the waist, her hands shoved deep into the pockets.

And the man who has his arms looped through hers, head bowed down, deep in conversation beside her, is... it’s _William._

He has to blink twice to make sure it’s him. Because he’s almost half a head taller that she is, even with Felicity in her customary high heels. Neither of them have noticed him, huddled together around a black sedan, facing the other side, expecting him to exit the main building.  

“Felicity!” he calls out the moment he’s within hearing distance. “William!”

They turn around at the sound of his voice and he can see Felicity’s expression morph from one of surprise to relief, and then she’s running to him, Wiliam not far behind.

She slams into him, arms curling around his neck tightly, her nose nuzzling into his neck as she presses her entire body into him. She’s warm and soft and everything he’s only been able to dream of in the last five months and he just wants to stay like this forever.

He sinks his fingers into her hair, marvelling at the silky strands, always marvelling because she’s his and she’s here - and when he tilts his head to kiss her, his world spins on its axis because he’s missed her so much. _So much._

“I’ve missed you too,” she whispers against his lips, and he only just realises that he’s been saying every thought out loud but he can’t bring himself to care.

There are a million more things he wants to say to her, a cascade of apologies upon apologies, words clawing their way up his throat but he’s wrecked with emotion and all he can do is close his eyes, rub his nose against hers and breathe.

“I love you, Felicity.”

He pulls back from her and reaches out to WIlliam, who’s hovering uncertainly behind Felicity. “William, come here.”

And then he has his arms full of teenage lankiness and floppy hair and it fills the gaping, black hole in his heart that’s been festering for five months.

“I’m so glad you’re out, dad,” William says. “I’m, so glad we can go home.”

“Yeah,” Oliver chokes out. The word sends a spark of warmth through his entire body. “Home. Let’s go home.”

* * *

 

His homecoming is similar to his last one, when he came back from the his five years of hell. Only this time, he doesn’t come home to the harrowed anxiety of the Queen family and he doesn't have to do it alone. Both Felicity and William had been in protective custody the entire time he’d been in prison, so it’s as much of a homecoming for them as it is for him.

Reporters swarm the car the moment they enter the Star City border and it makes him queasy. He should have expected this, should have known that it would be anything but the quiet, peaceful reunion he’d been hoping for.

After all, it’s not every day that the city’s former mayor, a self-confessed vigilante, gets pardoned by the President of the United States, exonerated from all criminal charges after someone (and he’s one hundred percent sure he knows who) released mountains of evidence about the good he’s done in the years he’d been the Green Arrow.

Eventually, Felicity manages to remotely shortcircuit all reporters’ electronics, and while they scramble to figure out what’s wrong, they duck into his apartment building and into his loft.

Their loft.

_Home._

Everything after that is a blur of tears and hugs and well-wishes from their closest friends and family. Even the team aboard the Waverider manages to drop by, much to William’s delight (‘It’s a Tardis _and_ a spaceship, dad! All in one, oh my God!’) and even though he would have much preferred to spend time with just his immediate family, he accepts all of it with open arms.

No one really asks him about his time in Slabside, somehow sensing that he’s not ready to talk about it yet. They’re right, he’s not.

So he listens to Sara regaling them about her recent adventures, spending the better part of an hour laughing about how an oversized Beebo toy managed to defeat some sort of evil demon from another dimension.

Barry and Iris talk about their trouble with a really smart guy which Oliver secretly thinks is really not that big of a deal. But Oliver’s always thought Central City’s a little lacking in the evil mastermind super villain area anyway, so maybe a genius scientist super villain is par on course for team Flash.  

Felicity remains strangely subdued throughout the entire afternoon, but she never leaves his side, her head resting on his shoulders, hands never far from his own. William on the other hand, appears to be more engaged, chattering animatedly with the others because he’s been starved of friendly contact for so long.

Guilt gnaws at him.

Chips away at his happy bubble because _he_ did this to them. It was _his_ half thought out, idiotic decisions that had torn his family apart before they even had a real chance of _being_ a family. Regret courses through him at the thought and he’s once more filled with bitterness and self-loathing because if he’d just _listened_ to Felicity all that time ago, if he’d just -

Felicity sighs next to him, almost as if she can sense his growing unease.

“He’s okay, don’t worry,” Felicity murmurs into his shoulder, kissing it gently. It brings with it the familiar calming effect she’s always had over him and he holds on to the notion that at least s _ome_ things will never change.

When he looks down at her, she smiles at him reassuringly and the invisible bands around his heart loosens and he recalls something he’s told her once before.

She makes everything so _easy._

By the time night falls, he’s exhausted, physically and mentally and all he wants to do is have the world’s longest shower and curl up around his son and his wife and sleep forever on an actual mattress.

But William excuses himself into his room shortly after dinner, much to Oliver’s dismay. The boy does give him a hug that lasts for more than a few minutes, his long limbs wrapping around his body like he never wants to let go.

The easy display of affection relieves some of the ache in his heart and he thinks that maybe this means he hasn’t completely destroyed what’s left of the trust his son has in him.

William whispers a heartfelt goodnight to him, promising that they’ll catch up in the morning and Oliver can only nod in response as remains rooted on the couch. He’s completely overcome with shock at the marked difference between the angry, desolate William he’d brought home after Lian Yu last year, and _this_ William who’s all hopeful smiles and tight hugs.

It’s because of Felicity. He feels it deep in his soul without having to _know_ it. Because he knows _her,_ and he knows that despite everything he’s done and the promises he’s broken, Felicity would have had his back. She would have made William understand - even if _she_ didn’t - why he did what he did.

Love blooms in his chest and he makes his way through the loft in search of Felicity, desperate to tell her just how much he owes her and how much he loves her and how sorry he is for everything he’s put her through.

Felicity’s already in the shower when he enters their bedroom, steam billowing out from the crack in the door that she hasn’t shut all the way. It used to be an invitation for him to join her, but he’s aware that that was _before._.. and now...

“Honey,” he calls out. “Can I come in?”

“Duh, Oliver.”

He smiles at her glib response and within moments he’s with her in their extravagant bathroom with the two shower heads and a million different settings. Oh, how he’s missed his bathroom.  

“Felicity,” he breathes out. “So gorgeous.”

The sight of her naked, soapy, wet body is a shock to his system and he growls, wild and animalistic. But when his gaze makes it to her face, he’s taken aback to see her eyes red and puffy like she’s been crying.

“Fel-”

“I’m okay, I’m okay, Oliver,” she mumbles. Her hands come up to loop around his neck as she plasters herself against him, resting her cheek along sharp line of his collarbone.

“Just really, really happy that it’s all over.”

She sucks in a shuddering breath and her fingers dig into the back of his neck like she’s afraid he’s going to leave her again.

A torrent of undecipherable emotions crash through him because despite her reassurances, he’s well aware that this is entirely on him. _He_ put her through this, _he’s_ caused her all this unnecessary pain, _he_ left her to take care of his son alone as her entire world gets thrown into a tailspin through no fault of her own.

He doesn’t deserve her.

“Tell me what I can do,” he pleads, skimming a hand down her back and resting it over the slight bump where her implant sits. She told him once that the nerve endings around the implant were more sensitive and the feeling of his hand calms her down.  

“I’ll do anything. Whatever you want, Felicity.”    

The sound of the water sluicing around them almost drowns out her answer. “Just love me,” she whispers.

The fact that she thinks she has to ask him to love her...

It shatters him.

 

* * *

 

When he wakes up in the morning, his heart is racing, skin damp with sweat, vestiges of some sort of nightmare still playing in the back of his mind. The soft sheets and the cool air is disorientating at first, his body haven’t yet adapted to his new surroundings but then he remembers that he’s _home_ and the panic subsides immediately.

He turns over onto his side, fully expecting a still-asleep Felicity next to him but space is empty. A sliver of hurt slices through him and he can’t help the irrational spark of frustration at the fact that she’s taken away his chance to wake up with her on the first day of his newfound freedom.

It only lasts for a split second because, yeah, it’s irrational and stupid. But also because he suddenly hears her voice drifting through the bedroom door, coupled with William’s animated laugh and he realises that maybe it’s actually late and normal people who haven’t just been released from prison don’t want to stay in bed forever.  

Like a moth to a flame, he drags himself out of bed and lumbers out of the bedroom towards the rest of his family.

“Dad, you’re awake!”

William barrels into him for a quick hug, and he can smell what seems to be sugar and cinnamon wafting between them.

“Are you...” He tears his eyes away from William, only to find Felicity bent over the kitchen sink, dumping a frying pan into it. “Felicity, did you _cook_?”

She grins at him, shrugging like it’s no big deal, as if she didn’t once almost set their house in Ivy Town aflame by attempting to boil water. But even after his time away, he can still read her, can still pick up on her tells, and he can see the sheen of pride she’s trying to mask behind her nonchalance.

“Just pancakes for William, because you know, breakfast is the most important meal of the day for a growing boy. Or for anyone, really. I’m really good at breakfast pancakes now. Oh, and omelettes too, but only the easy ones with like, nothing in them because, that, let me tell you, is a whole other world of complicated. How do you even make sure everything cooks at the same rate? What if the insides aren’t done yet, but the egg is burning? Well, I’m sure _you_ know how to make sure, but I’m not you, so.”

For some reason, her cheerful babbling makes his heart ache. Just a little. A twinge of sadness at yet another reminder of how his selfishness had upturned the world of those he loves the most. How her words imply that him leaving them forced her to figure out how to raise a teenage boy on her own.

He walks up to her with single-minded focus and pulls her in for a deep, soul-wrenching kiss. Felicity squeaks in surprise, but her hands come up to squeeze his biceps and she submits to the fire and the passion and God - why, _why_ had he thought anything was worth giving this up for?

“I love you, Felicity,” he tells her, probably for the hundredth time since he’s returned.

Felicity hums, eyes still shut like she’s savoring their kiss in her head. When she reopens them, there’s a glint of mischief in them and she steps back before winking at him.

“I know, babe. You told me. Repeatedly, last night.”

“You two are so gross,” William grouses from the other side of the kitchen bench. “Aren’t you supposed to go to City Hall, Felicity?”

“Oh, yeah! Frack!”

Wait, what?

“City Hall?” Oliver echoes, blinking dumbly. He doesn’t get to spend the day with her today? She’s... what is she _doing_ at City Hall exactly?  

Felicity edges past him and off what he assumes is the confused look on his face, she pats his chest and smiles apologetically.

“Yeah, just really quickly. I have paperwork to submit and I’d rather do it in person. I don’t trust much of anything government related here just yet.”

He stands rooted to the spot, watching as she scurries around the loft gathering her phone and her keys before dumping them into her bag. Her heels come on next, her favourite one, he notices - the ones that she says makes her feel powerful.

What in the world is she doing that she needs to feel powerful for?

Before he can really register anything that’s happening, Felicity’s ready to go, bag in hand, hair pulled back in her trademark sleek ponytail. She scampers up to William in a hurry, smudges a kiss to his cheek and ruffles his hair.

“Be good for Oliver,” she tells the boy who just rolls his eyes affectionately at her.

“I will. Good luck!”

Then she comes up to him, heels bringing her up to his eye level and she grazes a kiss to his jawline.

“Bye, babe. Behave, okay? No going to the FBI to confess more crimes or whatever.”

It’s a joke, he knows, but it doesn't sit well with him. Surely it’s still too soon for all of them to be making light about it? It is for him. In fact, if he has anything to say about it, he never wants to talk about his idiotic decisions ever again, let alone joke about it.

He’s also well aware that Felicity uses humour as an armour, deflecting with jokes so that her real feelings are safely tucked away somewhere deep within her. 

So what, if anything, does her casual remark really mean?

The door slams shut behind her before he can make any sense of anything and he trains his gaze back on William. He walks over to his son and squeezes his shoulder as he sits down next to him, eyeing the pancakes William’s heartily digging into with suspicion.

Deciding that it’s probably safe for his son to be eating them, he asks William the question that’s burning a hole in his brain.

“Do you know what’s she doing at City Hall?”

“Registering her new company,” William responds easily over a bite of his pancake.

_Huh?_

“She has a new company?”

“Yeah, well, no one really wanted to do business with the Green Arrow’s wife you know? So she sold her shares in Helix Dynamics and had to start from scratch again under a pseudonym so people don’t know who she is.”

The revelation floors him.

Hits him like freight train because he hadn’t considered that. Hadn’t considered anything outside of the fact that he _thought_ he’d been doing the right thing at the time.

He flashes back to the their moment in the S.C.P.D interrogation room, when she’d pleaded with him, desperation bleeding from her every word for them to find another way and he’d just... ignored her.

Gave up.

He runs his fingers through his hair and exhales, trying to get a hold of the sudden swell of emotions building within him.

“Dad, are you okay?”

William’s looking at him curiously, wide eyed and innocent and Oliver manages to bury his regrets for a moment to offer him a genuine smile.

“Yeah, yeah I am. I didn’t know Felicity was thinking of starting something new, that’s all.”

“She’s probably really excited about it that she forgot to tell you,” William tells him, eyes gleaming. “She’s gonna call it SQC Incorporated. Smoak Queen Clayton. Isn’t that _cool_? But she also says it’s kind of a homage to how you two met. At QC. Get it?”

William’s bubbly excitement is infectious and Oliver can’t help but bask in it. “That is cool. I... I love it.”  

“She said you would.”

Then, much to Oliver’s surprise, William takes his hand and laces their fingers together over the counter top. The boy must sense is confusion because he scoots closer and bumps his shoulder.

“I’m so happy you’re home, dad.”

Warmth blooms in Oliver’s heart and it spreads through his entire body. He’d been so scared, so nervous about their reunion, because he didn’t know what he’d be coming home to. So many nights had been spent agonizing over his regrets and mistakes and when he’d been released, half of him had expected the same surly, grumpy William from the year before but this boy - this _young man_ in front of him - is... he hadn’t expected this.

“William, I’m so sorry for everything that I -”

The boy only shakes his head, silencing him.

“Felicity said... she told me once that you’re not perfect and that you keep secrets and you make mistakes but... but you always have a good reason. And that I have to believe that you’re going to be okay. Because that’s what love is. She said a bunch of other things that were really sappy and stuff but... it made sense. I believed you were gonna be okay. The whole time. Felicity said that you guys had a plan to get you out and it was just gonna take some time so I knew you were gonna come back. And you came back, dad. You kept your promise and that’s all that matters.”

And all of a sudden everything clicks in place.

They definitely did _not_ have a plan to get him out when he turned himself in. Felicity had masterminded the whole thing after he’d been sentenced. It was all her, and A.R.G.U.S., with some help from Team Flash, if he’s understanding everything correctly, but he definitely had no part to play in it.

His amazing, wonderful wife had taken the horrible situation he’d thrusted upon them and spun it in a way so that his son would be protected from the worst of his lies, making sure that William didn’t feel betrayed by him, _again,_ and it now makes perfect sense why William doesn’t look at him with hatred and contempt like he’d expected.

Felicity Smoak, what did he ever do to deserve her?

He can feel tears forming in his eyes, overwhelmed by everything, so he pulls William in for a tight hug, burying his nose into his hair.

“I am so very glad I’m home too buddy.“

 

* * *

 

Felicity comes home extremely late that day.

She’d sent him a vague text about being held up with paperwork, and was just going to pick dinner up in between meetings - what meetings, she doesn’t specify - and not to wait up if he’s too tired.

Alarm bells aren’t quite going off in his head just yet, but it seems strange that she’s not as eager as he is to spend time together after so long being apart. He’s not annoyed, but he is mildly frustrated because even though he knows he’s in a really good place with William, he can’t quite tell where he stands with Felicity.

He doesn’t like it.

They haven’t talked. Not really. And they haven’t brought up their moment in the bathroom from the night before again, when she’d sobbed into his chest asking him to love her. And yeah, that still stings and it hurts knowing that she’s kind of retreating into herself and he doesn’t want that for her. Not even a single bit.

Eventually, she does come home, looking worn out and distracted and the moment she crosses the threshold into the apartment, he gathers her into his arms because he misses her, god damn it, and a text or two throughout the day isn’t enough. She loops her arms around his neck and rests her cheek against his shoulder.

“Company is a go,” she mumbles into him, even though he doesn’t ask her. He feels her shoulders relax in his embrace, her spine softening so she curls into him. “Had to pull some strings so it doesn’t look like its my company, oh, I’m running it through a trust in your and William’s name, by the way, but it’s _done_.”

She sounds so proud of herself that he can’t bring himself to tell her she actually hasn’t told him much about this company of hers. So he just holds her, gives her the comfort that she’s seeking wordlessly, setting aside the million questions crowding his brain.

“What did you get up to with William today?” she asks, still not lifting her head from his shoulder.

“We talked. Watched movies. He told me how much he enjoyed you home schooling him.”

Felicity perks up at that, pulling her head back so she can grin tiredly at him. “Oh, yeah! That’s been fun! He’s so smart, Oliver. Picks things up so easily, he can do some pre-college courses soon, if ever decides what he wants to do - besides being a professional gamer, of course, because that’s a really risky career choice and -”

She pauses, yawning wide.

“I think he’s got a while to go before deciding though,” Oliver tells over a chuckle. “You wanna go to bed, Felicity? You’re practically falling over your own feet.”

They retire to the bedroom after that, going through the motions of settling in for the night and it’s both familiar and _not_ at the same time. She does the same things exactly as he remembers them, removing her makeup, moisturising, brushing her teeth, undressing - but amidst it all, there’s an underlying current of _something_ he can’t place and it’s unsettling.

But then she’s sliding under the covers and cuddling into his side, draping her arms around his chest, hooking her legs over his thighs and it just feels _right_ and perfect and Oliver doesn’t know what to think anymore.

“I’ve missed sleeping next to you,” Felicity whispers, her lips ghosting over his skin before pressing a kiss under his jaw. “Missed you so much.”

And just like that she manages to sooth the calamity of voices in his head that have been plaguing him all day and with her gentle breath blowing rhythmically against his skin, he slips into a peaceful slumber.

But it doesn’t last.

The peace, anyway. Because when he wakes up the next day, and this time it’s _early_ he notes, Felicity is once again gone.

He finds her out in the living room, dressed for the day, in a cute pink top and tight form-fitting jeans that rides low on her hips, revealing a tantalising strip of skin just along her waistline that makes his mouth water. Her hair shines in the morning light streaming through the windows, soft and curly - no ponytail today. She’s fiddling around with her phone, eyebrows furrowed as she taps on the screen with lightning fast fingers.

She’s beautiful.

“Oh, hey, good morning!” she chirps when she sees him. “Coffee’s ready, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“It’s not,” Oliver growls under his breath. He stalks to her and plants his hands around her waist, pulling her in for a kiss. She responds eagerly, gasping when he nibbles on her bottom lip and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth.

She tastes like cinnamon.

“You already had breakfast?” he asks, eyebrows arched incredulously. Because okay, yesterday was weird and he was hoping it was a once off, but Felicity waking up early enough to not only make breakfast (a thought he’s still finding hard to swallow), but to have it too?

“Um, yeah. I’m... I’m used to it now.” She doesn’t quite meet his gaze and her voice is tinted with what he suspects is guilt, though he’s not sure why, and she takes a step back.

Her face is shuttered, and her fingers clench and unclench around her phone like she’s nervous or something, and those alarm bells that weren’t going off yesterday morning?

They’re going off now.

Loudly.

“William usually wakes up early and I want - wanted to make sure he’s not hungry, you know? Hard habit to kick, I guess? But um, you’re here now and you’re better at it than I am, so you can take breakfast duties back if you want,” Felicity says, oblivious to Oliver’s turmoil.

The weird nauseous feeling in his gut is back in full force, dark and twisty and Oliver can only nod at her, pretending he’s not completely confused. Part of him loves her - loves her _so much_ for thinking about William and his needs, and the other part... The other part is screaming into the tortured silence between them for her to stop holding herself at a distance and just _talk_ to him.

But then William emerges from his bedroom, bleary-eyed and yawning, searching for food and he doesn’t get to voice his concerns before Felicity’s scurrying back to the kitchen like she’s relieved for the escape and starts plating up breakfast for him.

She tells them about having to go back to City Hall and needing to meet up with lawyers and real estate agents to look at potential office space. Oliver knows they’re all the normal things people have to deal with when starting up a company but he can practically see the tension radiating off her, the way she’s gnawing on the inside of her cheek, the way she’s not really looking at him, and he knows that she’s not as fine as she’s pretending to be.

And then for the second time in as many days, she rushes out the front door after brushing a quick kiss against his cheek, with a promise to text him once she knows when she’s coming home, leaving Oliver feeling out of sorts and off-kilter, with a bitter smear on his already tear-stained heart.  
 

* * *

 

Felicity comes home late again that night, heels dangling from her fingers, her coat slung over her forearm, like it’s completely normal and fine even though it’s _not_ and Oliver decides it’s time that he finds a way to fix this.

Whatever _this_ is.

It’s not until she’s changed into her oversized shirt and sleep shorts before he musters up the courage to talk to her.

“Felicity.” His voice cracks a little, and he clears his throat. “Are you avoiding me?”

She pauses in the middle of pulling the covers off their bed and fixes him with a pointed stare. Tilts her head at her side of her bed. “Oliver, I’m right here.”

He should have known she wouldn’t make it easy. He scratches the back of his neck and takes a step towards her. Tries to find the right words to convey everything that he’s felt ever since he’s come home from prison.

“I... I know. But you’re also not here. Not entirely. It just feels like you’re doing everything you can so you don’t have to stay home and I can’t help but think that maybe it’s because _I’m_ here. At home.”

“Oliver, you’re being ridiculous,” Felicity scoffs, letting the blanket fall from her fingers. Exasperation drips from her words. “It’s just with the new company, and the really, really complicated circumstances surrounding it - it’s taking more time than I expected.”

“You know you didn’t tell me about your company.”

It slips out before he can stop himself, and he doesn’t hide the tinge of hurt in his voice.

“I... what?” She folds her arms over chest, defensive, and Oliver knows he’s treading on thin ice. “What are you saying?”

“You didn’t... you didn’t tell me anything about it. William told me. And I don’t know, Felicity. You rush off first thing in the morning without so much as a goodbye, you come home late, and I don’t know what it is, but there’s something’s off about us. And I want to fix it. I want to fix us.”

Something in her breaks. Her shoulders sag in defeat and her eyes flutter shut. “I don’t want to do this now, Oliver.”

Frustration courses through him because if not now, then _when?_

“Do what, Felicity? Talk? Like adults? Like _married_ adults? Are you going to just disappear every morning and come home late and pretend everything is okay without even trying to work through -”

“Oliver, don’t you _dare.”_

Her voice is sharp, cutting, and it stops him in his tracks. Her eyes are blazing with muted anger and she’s standing so straight, like she’s preparing to go to war.

With him.

Right, okay. Maybe he’s going about this the wrong way. He doesn’t want to fight with her. Not now.

“Felicity, I want to know what you’re feeling. I just want to talk -”

“Oh, _now_ you want to talk?” she hisses. “After you left us with nothing but A.R.G.U.S personnel watching over us every damn day for five months, now you want to talk? You want to discuss things _now_ , Oliver?”

Yeah, he deserved that. It’s clear that he’s hit a nerve, and she’s no longer pretending about anything. Instead, she looks like she’s ready for a real knock down, drag out fight. Her entire demeanor has changed and just like that, he’s lost control of the entire situation and all he can do is ride it out.

“Okay, let’s discuss it then. You single-handedly made a decision that affected my life, and William’s life, after you promised that you weren’t going to do that to me again. You stood in front of me, Oliver, you were right there when I told you that there is no alone in a marriage, and you still went and made this life-changing decision on your own.”

Tears are pooling in her eyes and the cracks in his heart only grow deeper with every word that tumbles out of her mouth.

“I told you. I told you my greatest fear in life is losing you, and you...”

She sucks in a deep breath and takes a step away from him. Her eyes slam shut, her hands curl into fists at her side like she’s trying to keep her emotions in check.

A strangled sob escapes from between her lips. When she re-opens her eyes, she’s staring daggers at him and the fire burning in them strikes him deep in his soul.

“You _left_ me. Alone. I told you I’d find another way, and by the way, I did, but you still left me. And your son. You left _us_.”  

He’s breaking apart on the inside. For the first time since he’s returned, he’s finally seeing the true effect his asinine decision has made on the people he loves. On the woman and the boy that he loves more than he loves anything else in the world.  

“I’m so sorry, Felicity.”

It’s the only thing he can think to say to her. Because he is. He’s so, so sorry and he knows that nothing he can do or say can take away the pain he’s inflicted on her. He’s thought about it every night since he’s been arrested, regretted the decision almost immediately, in fact, because the moment he had a minute to himself, he realised what an idiot he’d been.

But by then it had been too late.

His family had been whisked away into protective custody, and he’d been locked up for life.

“It was a mistake.”

Felicity just looks at him, silent, chest heaving with restrained emotion, so he continues.

“I let the fear get a hold of me, I let everyone’s disappointment eat at me from the inside and I... I wasn’t thinking straight. I know that. The moment I set foot in the prison, I knew that I’d made a mistake. The biggest one I’ve ever made in my life. I will do anything and everything to make it up to you. For the rest of my life, if that’s what it takes. Believe me, Felicity. If I can go back in time and do everything all over again, I would. I would in a heartbeat. I should have trusted you.”

Her response is short and biting. “You should have.”

He takes a tentative step towards her, but his heart sinks when she takes a reactive step back. Disappointment washes over him and he nods in understanding.

His entire being is clamoring for her, needing to hold her and touch her, to find some way to show her what she means to him, but he respects her need for distance and he holds his ground and waits her out because he can see that she’s not done reaming him out.

“You abandoned me,” she finally says. “You took a deal with the F.B.I that meant you were going to jail forever and you didn’t even think twice about it. You want to know who else did that? Cooper. The only other man I’ve loved in my life. Do you know how that makes me feel?”

“Like I’m not worth it. Like despite everything I do, the people I love end up leaving me anyway.”

 _Just love me_.

Her words to him that first echo in his mind and he wants to floor to open up and swallow him whole. Wants to bury himself in a pit of hopelessness and despair because how could he have been so thoughtless? How could he have done this to her? The love of his life.

His _wife._

He’s still swirling in regret and anguish when she speaks again, and he lifts his eyes to look at her - she deserves that much at least.

“William was a mess on the anniversary of his mother’s death. We weren’t allowed to visit her grave because - well. Protective custody. But I had to hold him as he cried for his mother, a woman who died in the explosion that _I_ survived. Oliver, that nearly killed me.”

“I needed you. _William_ needed you then.”

Her brutal honesty hits him like a battering ram against his already broken psyche. Nonetheless, he takes it all in, swallows his pride and lets her words really drive home the fact that he’s royally, epically, screwed up this time and suddenly he’s afraid that there’s no coming back from this.

The fear that grips his heart at the thought is agonising, and he wants to tell her to stop - to stop flaying him with the truth and consequences of his actions but he won’t. He deserves this. Deserves all of it.

“You want to know what I’m feeling, Oliver? I feel like the person who was supposed to have my back, for better or for worse, _didn’t_ have my back. I feel like you left me alone with nothing but broken promises of a nonexistent future but now you’re back and we have a future again, and everything's the same but _different,_  and I just... I’m still processing. I’m processing, okay, and that takes time.”

Oliver can’t bear to look at her.

He didn’t think he could feel any worse than he already did, but boy had be been wrong. Because Felicity sounds so broken and hurt and it’s because of him. He has a sudden urge to punch something - himself, mostly - so he clenches his fists and grits his teeth to rein in the self-loathing.

A stray thought crosses his mind and it’s dark and bleak and it rocks him to his core because he hasn’t wanted to entertain it before tonight, but the conflict between them is so fragile and foreign and he’s already in so much pain anyway so he just blurts it out loud. Rips it from his head like a bandaid.

“Do you... Are you going to leave me?”

Felicity flinches at the question, her jaw dropping, her eyes widening like he’s just pulled the rug out from under her. But the question is out in the open now and every scary, intimidating thought about his relationship that he’s repressed over the last five months spill from his lips like a waterfall over the jagged cliffs of his breaking heart.

“Because I know what I’ve done is unforgivable, and I’ve broken my promises to you and to William, and I don’t blame you if that’s what you want. I don’t blame you, Felicity. I left you alone because I was stupid, and selfish and not a single day goes by that I wish I’d -”

He doesn’t get to finish.

Because she’s kissing him, angry and sloppy and untamed, but she’s _kissing_ him. Her hands cup his cheeks, nails scratching against his day-old stubble, like some sort of sweet punishment and Oliver doesn’t know what to do with himself.

It’s the closest she’s been to him all night. He can smell her moisturiser, vanilla, and she tastes like mint and salvation and he almost buckles to his knees because even if he doesn’t know what this is about, she’s in his arms and it means _something._

“Oliver, _no,_ ” she whispers when she pulls back for air. “I’m not leaving you, you idiot.”  

He squeezes her waist, once, to make sure she’s really there and that he’s not dreaming this entire thing up. “But Felicity -”

“Oliver, I _love_ you.”

“But... I hurt you.” He moves his hands to grasp her forearms, putting some space between them. “I hurt you and lied to you and you’re so angry.”

His voice catches in his throat and he doesn’t know if she heard him. Mind-numbing guilt is still coursing through him and he needs... he’s not sure what he needs, but it feels like it’s too good to be true, because he doesn’t deserve her. “I hurt you. I broke all my promises and caused you so much pain. I _left_ you.”

“I never said loving you was easy,” she mutters dryly. She spreads her palms out over his chest, resting one over his beating heart.

"Because it’s not. You’re stubborn, and hot headed and you don’t listen to good advice, and by good advice, I mean me.”

She lifts her eyebrows at that, and a shadow of a smile crosses her face. “But you’re also kind and generous, and despite... leaving me,” she pauses for a breath, stumbling over the words and it’s clear she’s still very much affected by his actions.

“Despite leaving me, you’re here now. You’re back. That counts for something.”

“Thanks to you.” He says over a desperate sigh. “I’m here only because of you. Because you didn’t give up when I did.”

“Yeah. Thanks to me. There’s a reason why I’m the genius in this relationship.”

Hope sparks in him because she’s saying ‘relationship’ like she believes they still have one. That they can _still_ have one.

Even so, his track record with women is abysmal. Before Felicity, not one of them have been willing to stick around after he’s messed up, so even though it tears him apart on the inside, he steels himself and gives her the out he thinks she might be looking for.

“Felicity... I don’t... I don’t want to make you stay with me just because you feel obligated to our marriage. If it’s William you’re thinking about you can see him -”

“Oliver, please stop talking about me leaving you.”

He blinks at the fierceness in her voice. Her hands twist the material of his shirt, pulling him closer to her.

“I’m not leaving you. Yes, loving you isn’t easy. But _not_ loving you, Oliver? It’s so much harder. I’ve tried, remember?”

He thinks about the horrible period of time they spent apart after their failed engagement, about Ray Palmer and Billy Malone and Susan Williams, and yeah, okay he kind of understands. Because he can’t imagine a world in which he doesn’t love her and if she feels even a fraction of what he does for her then...

“I’m not saying I’m... that I forgive you, because that’s going to take some time,” she says, bringing him back to the present. She taps his chest once, the hard lines of her face softening as she inches closer to him.

“You’re already beating yourself about this, aren’t you? You’re switching between guilty face and I’ve screwed up face so maybe I’ll try harder to work on forgiving you if you try harder not to be an idiot all the time. Marriage is all about hard work and compromise, after all.”

“Yeah, yeah it is,” he chokes, because he’d be dumb to not agree with her about anything from now on. He’s rendered speechless, mostly because only Felicity can go from super pissed to _not_ in the space of five minutes and he’s never been more grateful. “I can - I can do that. Work hard. Not be an idiot.”

Her hands fall from his chest, trailing down his arms so that she can lace their fingers together.

“I _do_ love you, Oliver. So much, and I’ve known you for so long and I know that loving you means loving _all_ of you, even when you make dumb, idiotic decisions that you think you’re making for the greater good. It doesn’t mean I can’t be angry with you when you make them.”

He doesn’t know what to say. He feels so bruised and battered like he’s gone five thousand rounds on the sparring mats with Diggle, only it’s his emotions that have been put through the wringer instead of his body. He’s so overwhelmed, practically trembling with relief and hope and happiness and so much love for the woman in front of him.

“I love you, Felicity,” he murmurs, extending an arm around her to pull her into a hug. “I love you so much, even if I really, really suck at showing it.”

“I know,” she answers, lips pressing into the collar of his shirt. Her hands band around his waist, and her touch anchors him. Reassures him that she’s still there. With him.

“I’m going to make this up to you. For the rest of my life. I’ll do anything you want, everything, if I have to.” He can’t control what he’s saying, doesn’t care that he’s babbling into her hair because it’s the truth. He will. Anything she asks for.

“I know,” she repeats, rubbing circles against his back. “I know. But for tonight, can we just go to bed? Please?”

He nods wordlessly, and follows her as she leads them into bed. They settle in for the night, Felicity cuddling into his side like she usually does, arms and legs entwined with his. His heart is still racing, still recovering, but having her close is a soothing balm over his mangled soul.

Felicity kisses him softly, the tiniest brush of her lips against his but it serves as the most intimate exchange between them all night.

They lie in silence for a while, and just as he thinks she’s fallen asleep, the hand she has draped around his midsection squeezes his side and he looks down at her curiously.

“Can I tell you... Do you want to know about my company? My new one?”

Her voice is soft and hesitant, tentative, and Oliver knows it’s her way of starting to forgive him. Her way of letting him into her heart again.

He tilts his head down to kiss her forehead lovingly.

“I would love that, Felicity.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was sent a prompt and it just hurt so good. I hope I did both the prompt and our favourite characters justice. 
> 
> Comments much appreciated. 
> 
> Twitter: estheryam


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